Worth Watching
by xJazminex
Summary: One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching.” At the end of IMToD, John looks back on his life to find nothing but hunting, and wonders whether it was worth it. Spoilers for up to In My Time Of Dying


**Worth Watching**

By Jazmine

Spoilers: Spoilers from through the first season, and major spoilers from In My Time Of Dying.

Summary: At the end of IMToD, John looks back on his life to find nothing but hunting, and wonders whether it was worth it.

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, or Papa Winchester… I don't own the Impala… Come to think, I don't even own the laptop I'm writing this on, as it's borrowed from a friend… See? I don't own anything…S'all Kripke's… 'Cept for the laptop… That's my friend's….

Warning: Um, no clue… Probably about a PG? Not much bad stuff… Character death, but I'm figuring you knew that from the summary… 

Thanks to: Kripke, without his evil genius, we'd never have the show in the first place…

Madi, for helping me work my way through the original twisted plot bunny that became this story.

Kelly, for beta-ing this story for me, and for giving me such nice compliments, and convincing me to actually post it.

I owe cookies to all three, and to everyone who reads this, and/or reviews…

Any remaining mistakes are mine, I take full blame…

Please review, this is my first published story, and I'd love to know what you think…

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_Worth Watching_

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"_One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it's worth watching."_

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John walked out of his son's hospital room quickly, blinking back tears. He was desperate to turn back, to take back the secrets and emotions he'd just shown. To be with his sons, to talk to them, really talk.

But he couldn't. He knew that. He'd made a deal.

His heart felt heavy, and he wished he could just stay. Spend a couple last moments with his son. But he couldn't be there when his side of the deal was collected. He knew it would break his eldest, and he wouldn't let that happen.

Not when the deal was made for Dean.

So he left. Left before Dean could say anything about the secrets John had revealed. Left before Dean could guess what was going to happen to him. Left before Sam could come back.

Walking slowly to an empty room, he resisted the urge to run back. He knew this was it.

He took the Colt; the gun he'd worked for the last year to find, the gun with its one precious bullet left in its chamber, the gun that could mean finally avenging Mary; and placed it on a table in the empty room.

He looked up. He saw the shadowy silhouette of the Demon in front of him, its amber eyes glowing in anticipation. He wanted so desperately to grab the Colt again, and blow the head off the sonuvabitch, but he resisted.

John knew that demons were traitorous beings at the best of times. When the Demon had agreed to save Dean, to bring him back, it had made the deal reversible. If John tried to go back on the deal, or to attack the Demon, Dean would die.

And as much as John had given for this quest, this crusade, he knew he couldn't watch one of his sons die. He could and would willingly give himself, and his life, to achieve his goal. He could bring his sons up as hunters, break or bruise every part of his body, and cut himself off from any friends. But he couldn't live with it if his Dean or his Sammy died. He couldn't live with it if there was something he could have done to prevent it.

So he left the Colt lying on the table. Looking up into the amber eyes of the demon he had been hunting for twenty-three years, he nodded.

"Okay"

As soon as he uttered that, a sharp pain shot through his chest. He fell backwards, unable to stop it, and felt warmth blossom on his chest. He blinked, and then felt the darkness overtake him. As it surrounded him, he let go.

As he slipped away, he saw his body on the floor, and gently took the hand of the raven-haired reaper standing beside him. She smiled slightly.

John felt the world disappear. A series of pictures and memories assailed him. His life was literally flashing before his eyes.

_Green grass and a white soccer ball flying across the field. Parents smiles and hugs._

_Christmas time, with wrapping paper littered across the room._

_A shiny black Impala, a gift for his sixteenth, smooth leather beneath his hands._

_His metal tags for the Marines, hanging on a chain around his neck, a symbol of achievement._

_His Mary, her blonde hair tumbling down her back when she laughed._

_A diamond ring around the stem of a rose, then around Mary's slim finger._

_Dean, a happy bouncing four-year old._

_Sammy, cooing and waving his arms about as they handed him to his brother, his wide brown eyes sparkling._

John smiled. Every memory zoomed by him at an uncanny speed, but somehow he was able to see every one in absolute detail. The good and the bad. All his memories, from childhood to being with his family, happy and whole, 23 years ago.

_Fire, blood, impending darkness._

_Internet sites on mysterious fires, and other supernatural events._

_Guns and training._

_Sammy's first step, barely noticed as John taught Dean to punch._

_Spirits._

_Knives beneath pillows._

_Dean's first day of school, skipped in favour of a poltergeist hunt._

_Wraiths, werewolves and witches._

_A 45. pressed into the hand of a scared, nine-year-old Sammy._

_Endless motels._

_Constant searching, hunting, training._

_Bow hunting with Sam as soccer tryouts were held a few blocks away._

_Stories, nightmares and fairytales come true._

_A fifteen year-old Dean, wanting to become a fireman, yet being taught the best way to set fire to graves. _

_Christmas presents of mystical books and sharpening stones._

_Greasy takeout food._

_Searching but finding nothing._

_Skipped graduations, ignored grades, abandoned friends._

_A black Impala, filled with weapons._

_A journal of newspaper clippings._

_Lives of loneliness._

Looking back, John saw everything. Every 'Kodak moment' that had gone by without his attention. Every missed opportunity. Every abandoned dream.

He saw nothing but hunting. Hunting for an unattainable goal. His obsessive crusade that had taken twenty three years of his life, and leaving nothing to show for it. Bringing his sons up without joy, love or hope. Passing them a duty they never asked for.

A life unlived.

He saw that now. Saw that and wanted nothing more than to go back, to redo the past decades.

His chance was lost though. He had had one chance, and had thrown it away on a whim, chasing smoke on the wind.

It wasn't worth it. He admitted it to himself. None of it was worth it. He'd missed his sons' lives; they'd grown up as he'd had his back turned. They'd lost their mother, and their father had run hard and fast, leaving them to catch up on their own. He'd forced them to grow up too fast.

And he'd left them with a legacy they had never asked for, never wanted, but he had forced upon them. He'd left them with nothing but finishing off his quest. They'd never had a choice, or a chance for normal. He'd guarantied that.

After all this, countless lives saved, evils still out there, quests unfinished, John didn't care.

He knew evil was still lurking around dark corners. He knew innocent and oblivious people were dying supernatural deaths. He knew the Demon was attacking more helpless mothers and children. He knew all he could do to stop it.

He wanted another chance, but not for that. He wanted to go back, and live his life. Live his life, and make a future, instead of dwelling on the past. Live with and for his boys.

He'd finally seen what he'd done wrong, but it was too late.

It wasn't worth it. It had never been.

And his chance was gone.

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_Fin_


End file.
